


In Cold Blood

by LadyHelheim



Series: Witcher Stories [1]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Begging, Choking, Eventual Smut, F/M, Nymphs & Dryads, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Smutt, Teasing, The Witcher Lore, Unintentional Teasing, Witchcraft, Witches, baths, but not with who I want, enemy death, forgot about this, more traveling, murdered children (problem to solve), part nymph all witch, smutt in chapter 5, teasing in the bath
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:07:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22043047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyHelheim/pseuds/LadyHelheim
Summary: Lilura of Gravestone is just trying to get away from her past. She has been traveling for months in the North, hiding who and what she is from the people interacts with as she heads South. One day she finds herself near a village who has already called upon a Witcher's help.Will the nature of what she is help them? Or create a new reason to keep running?
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Witcher Stories [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1775473
Comments: 40
Kudos: 279
Collections: Good Relationship Etiquette (familial included) - or Good BDSM Etiquette - or Good Relationship and BDSM Etiquette





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I typed out 12 pages, this is the first 4.

She eyed the darkening forest with the intent to rest somewhere off of the beaten path. She had been traveling for too long in the winter snow, the cold settling into her bones. She clutched her outer cloak for warmth and protection. Lilura wished she still had that damn horse now, but she needed coin more than a faster way to travel. She had put plenty of space between her and the village that tormented her during the early harvesting months. She sighed deeply, watching the light fading more and more quickly in the tree line. She decided now was as good a time as any to walk off the road and into the unforgiving forest. Being a witch in these parts was no longer entirely safe, and skipping an inn helped her save the little coin she actually had. Lilura may not know much about the forests she now walked through, although some locals nearby had warned her of some of the creatures that sometimes grace these parts. But she would choose a giant wolf or an evil ghoul over a town full of humans anytime.

Lilura walked as straight as she could in the snow, it was getting deeper the further she went in but she needed to know that she could get back to the road if she needed to. And that she was far enough from the road so she wouldn’t be disturbed as she made a small camp to rest. She looked up as the stars started to fill the winter evening sky and she let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding in. She missed nights like this from her childhood, when her mother would train her while her father slept. Lilura turned around to check on the road, she moved a little to the left and right and felt that she was obscured enough that she might not be seen at first glance. She used her powers to push some of the snow around to hide her a bit better, and to create a small shelter that would take most of the wind. Couldn’t be making a full camp, big fire and all. She knew she shouldn’t advertise that she was out there. Or what she was. She bent down and sat in the cold snow, in her little shelter and created a small fire. Something large enough to warm her a little, but still small enough to miss the dancing of the light off of the snow. Or, at least she still hoped it was small enough. She was now exhausted, not used to the amount of traveling she had been doing. She thought it amusing how much of the world she missed when she was training and how stupid the world really was in the end. Lilura now felt that she had a very pampered life, a life most, and quite often, would tell her she didn’t deserve because of her heritage. That she must have slept her way into the academy. Although, those same people, those same witches, were good and gone now. At least most of them anyway. She survived them, the humans, and she will survive this damn winter. Even if it was her first one alone for 20 years. She was determined to keep going.

*******************************  
  


Roach huffed in annoyance as Geralt kept pushing her further. He often enjoyed the attitude she gave, kept him sane, for the most part. It was good and dark now, though. He felt he could spare the coin to stay in the inn, take a nice warm bath. He was sure Shrieking Peak wasn’t too far now. He didn’t really know what to expect from the village, there were mixed messages from other villages saying they were either very rich, or very poor. But if they had coin, he’d solve their missing children problem. Something to do with children going missing and then showing back up with no blood in their bodies. His brain told him it was a vampire, of some sort, but his gut hadn’t decided. It had been weeks since he first heard of the stories coming from the mountain, but no story comes without its enchantments. Like bards, singing about tails that didn’t happen or people peddling magic cure alls. “I know, I know, we’re almost there.” He told Roach, who shook her head in disbelief. He then noticed, in the darkened distance, a small figure on the road. He jumped off of Roach and started to walk towards the figure, hand on his blade. He was close enough to the village that, if he was correct had a vampire problem, then this could be one of them. As he got closer he started to relax, the scent didn’t stink of death or blood. Instead it smelled like Earth, Sage, and the moments after a spring rain. The figure then looked back, in a state of shock and horror and took off into the forest. Geralt sighed, knowing the girl would surely die in the forest alone. He took one look at Roach, who shook her head and huffed. “Sorry.” He said as he started to go after her. “Girl!” He shouted into the forest. He then felt it stupid for letting his presence in the forest known to both her and any creature that might be in it. Instead he stood and listened for a moment. He could her rapid breathing, and crunching of snow and he headed to cut her off. He took a few steps, being a silence as he could in the deepening snow and cut her off. She let out a yelp and covered her mouth to silence herself as she sized him up. The light of the moon lit up her pale features and her violet hair. She went to run the direction she came from but Geralt’s hands were quicker than her.

“Let go of me!” She yanked on her arm.

“Do you know how dangerous it is out here?”

“What? Its winter, the cold will do less harm than anything else out here.” Waving her hand out to the dense forest.

“There is a vampire out here.” She rolled her eyes.

“Please, I have fought off worse in my sleep.” It was then that he finally realized his medallion was vibrating. He looked to her free arm and saw it glowing, he snatched it and turned her quickly, covering her mouth.

“Whatever it is that you’re about to do, I’d advise against it.” Her breath was ragged against the leather of his glove, her heart beating quickly in her chest. She relaxed in his tight grip, as though to let him know she was submitting. He let go of her mouth but didn’t let her turn around.

“I was merely going to light the way back to the road.”

“Mages and their tricks.” He said coldly. “How long have you been around here?” He asked her accusingly, but letting her go. He pointed in the direction of the road and gestured her to start walking. She looked at him questioning, for a moment, before she started to walk.

“I hardly see how that is any business of yours. Witcher.” She said with a bitter tone.

“Well, kids are apparently going missing around here, and what do I find in the forest, but a witch.”

“Kids are going missing?” She turned around took look up at him. Adorable, he noted briefly, how short she was compared to him. He looked into her eyes, piercing and silver, even in the light of the moon they seemed to captivate him. He shook his head softly, to push the thought of her from his mind. He needed coin, first, and a good fuck later.

“Drained of blood.” She turned around and quickened her pace to the road. She muttered something under her breath, seemingly annoyed. “Something strike a nerve girl?” He asked roughly.

“Nothing, its nothing.” She said hurriedly, “Tell me, Witcher, was there another road, one that might take me away from this area?”

“Why? A bunch of villagers got you scared? Just portal around, you’ll figure it out.” But as he finished his brazen thought out loud she turned around in panic.

“They might respect you out of fear, Witcher, but these people would much rather torture a witch and see them dead, even if it didn’t solve their problems. They’d claim that it would.” She clutched at her coat, backing away from him as he walked towards her.

“Then portal.” He stretched out his hand to the road.

“I can’t. Was never good at it.” She sighed and looked up the road to the flames that indicated a village nearby. She then looked down the road where they came from and then looked back, sighing. “I guess hiding out here is good as any other place.” She then went to walk back into the forest but Geralt, against his better judgement, stopped her. Something was telling him he couldn’t let her leave. Not yet. She, somehow, had something to do with what was happening in Shrieking Peak. “Let go of me.”

“No, you’re coming with me. You look like shit.”

“Wow, offensive much?”

“I’m just being honest.” He gritted and whistle for Roach, who promptly started to follow them as he started to make her walk.

“Let go!” She yanked her arm, “Bloody ravens I thought Witchers were dense, not entirely dumb!” She seemed angry, but her anger only made her seem more adorable.

“Watch it girl, I eat things like you for breakfast.”

“Please, you couldn’t get a piece of my flesh if you begged me for it.”

“Big talk for someone who is afraid of being caught near this village.”

“You’re one person, compared to hundreds. I know my limits Witcher, and you should too. You should know when you’re out of your league.”

“Wow, you arrogant hag. Fine, freeze to death.” She moved aside as he walked passed her and towards the lanterns. He took a few steps before he heard the crunching of snow behind him. She literally chose to freeze in the dead of winter, than to go into the village. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. He felt that this will not be the last time he saw her, and dread filled his mind for a moment. He wasn’t scared, it was more like a warning, this wasn’t over.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> most plot, but I guess it thickens?

Geralt woke early, stretching out his muscles that ached from the night before. The bed was not worth the money, he should have stuck it out with the witch. Would have saved some money. He quickly gathered himself and got dressed, making his way down to the inn’s bar to grab some bread before heading out to the town square. When he left the inn, belly almost full he heard the commotion. There were men booing at something and women yelling with hatred. He came up to a rather large scene with a group of people dragging something in the streets. The small figure fought against the people who held them, but then someone yanked off her hood. “Yeah, now we can save our coin, no need for the Witcher!” Someone shouted and drew their blade. The girl’s eyes went wide with horror and still, she did not show her powers like she almost did the evening before. Before thinking he pushed through and grabbed the man wielding the blade, tossing it to the side.

“Hands off the girl.”

“Enough from you Witcher.” Someone spat, he eyed them all, as though to dare someone to challenge him. One of the men holding the witch let go and sunk into the crowd. The rest let her go.

“This is the witch stealing our children.” Someone tried to shout, tried to cause a ruckus.

“This _witch_ , is with me.” He pulled her up roughly and she pulled from him to fix herself. She was covered in mud and slush.

“Then explain what she was doing out in the forest last night? The other guards saw and found her this morning. Probably plotting how to steal her next victim, no doubt.” Some people started to nod as the guard spoke. 

“She was trying to see if she could locate your monster.” He lied. The townspeople started to talk among themselves but this gave him enough time to take the girl and walk her back to the inn. She stayed unearthly silent as they walked back to the inn, she moved her hood back up as they walked, trying to cover her face. She was quiet until he closed the door, taking her hood off again.

“Thank you.” He nodded at her.

“They’re just scared.”

“I know.” She said looking at the window. “But this is what I was attempting to avoid.” She sighed.

“I’ll ask for another bath be drawn, you look like you’re covered in shit.”

“I don’t have the coin to pay you.” She stated bluntly, he shook his head, “For saving me, not for the bath you idiot.”

“Now you’re just being rude.” He jabbed back. He then felt a wave wash over him, like his body felt like it slept well.

“Sorry, and thank you.” She sighed out. “I don’t accept help easily.”

“I get it. It's easier to be alone.”

“Most of the time. But, I am thankful that you just saved my skin. I will help you with your vampire problem. If this is an acceptable form of payment.”

“Straight to the point.”

“I found it easier to just be direct with others. I never did well with politics.” She said shedding her outer coat. Geralt took a moment to scan her form, the thin, lacy material covering the skin above her chest gave him a glance at the skin beneath. The way her dress held her form, was enough for him to go weak at the knees. Even though the dress was modest enough, it did not help hide her beauty. She looked down at the dress she wore and cursed under her breath, checking her pockets, growling in frustration.

“What?”

“They took my purse.”

“So now you can’t afford that bath.” He raised a brow and smiled amusingly.

“It’s fine.” She took a cloth from the basin and dipped it in the cold water of the used bath. She started to clean off her face.

“What is your name?”

“Lilura, of Gravestone.” 

“Never heard of her.”

“Good, I’d like to keep it that way.” She said wiping her neck down, he studied the columns of her slender neck. “What’s your name Witcher?”

“Geralt of Rivia” He never saw someone’s brows ride up that high on their face. She opened her silver eyes and they were fixated on him.

“I guess I really should have figured that one out.” He smiled smugly. 

“I have some work to do. I’ll be back later, and I’ll see about your coin.”

“I owe you too much as it is Witcher.” Lilura warned.

“Don’t leave, until I get back.”

“Like I have anywhere else to go.” She reminded him in a bitter tone. He left her as she started to wipe down her hair. 

Geralt walked through the forest around the village, where some of the families said their child had last been seen. The air was bitter and cold, he kept wondering why the fuck someone would live out in this place. But, people often lived in stupid places. He spent a few more hours looking around, but didn’t find anything like a crypt or a cave near by. He’d have to venture further into the forest, but he would do that tomorrow. Too dangerous to go after a vampire with daylight running out. Especially because he still wasn’t convinced it was just a vampire. 

The door sounded like someone was going to knock it down, but she opened it with as much grace as could muster anyway. “Witch..er” Someone started out and then ended slowly.

“Yes this is his lodging, he will be back soon. What can I help you with in the meantime?”

“A body was found.” Her face fell and she looked at the villager. 

“Take me to it.”

“You? A witch? No.”

“I’m helping the Witcher you all called for. I would believe he’d be none too pleased with your treatment of me, especially after this morning.” The man seemed to relent and gestured her to follow him. She looked up at the door for the number before quickly locking the door and leaving with him. She quickly pulled her cloak closed as they left the inn and headed towards what appeared to be an apothecary. Lilura was lead through a small river of people gathered around the small body, her heart fell in her chest. “Poor thing.” She said, the man with her nodded. He and some other people cleared everyone else out at her request. She started to examine the body without touching the poor girl. Her hair was brittle and was spiced with silver threads. She looked at the neck as she removed the girl’s scarf, looking for bite marks.

“We never found any markings. On any of the children.”

“Were they all girls?” Lilura questioned them.

“Most, but not all.”

“What was the youngest and oldest?” A man scoffed, “Please, I need more information before I continue.” She stated as she took off her gloves.

“The youngest was 8 and the oldest, was.” He trailed off.

“I’m guessing this girl?”

“Lily.” Someone coughed up, “Her fucking name was Lily.”

“I’m sorry, Lily, how old was she?”

“15.” The man bit back at her. She sighed, running her fingers down the body as she walked around it, looking for anything that would bite her magic back and then it did. She yanked her hand back as a black mist hit her. It was faint, almost gone now. Her heart sank in her chest, she looked back up at the men in front of her in fear. The blood drained from their faces.

“Go find the Witcher, this situation just got more dire. Apothecary, this might seem like a dumb inquiry, but do you have anything. And I mean anything, with dimeritium?”

“No ma’am.” He replied quickly, she looked back at the girl then back up at him.

“Oil, how much oil do you have? Something that is quick to light? Even alcohol will do.”

“Plenty, why? And isn’t dimeritium used for.” He stopped speaking.

“As I stated, more dire.” Lilura put her gloves back on.

Lilura paced the apothecary’s shop as the body was prepared for burial. She assured them that it was fine to bury her, she was not going to turn into anything, she was just dead. Which, was good luck for her. They would wait until spring, and bury all of them. Geralt eyed her as he entered with the men she sent out after him. He looked like he was about to rip off her head for not staying put. “We have a problem.” She stated as she looked over at him.

“Yes, I’m looking at it.” She rolled her eyes at the Witcher.

“It's a witch, not a vampire.” His brow raised a bit, disbelief taking over his sharp features.

“Well, fuck.” That was it. It was all he said. She sighed, frustrated.

“It’s a witch, murdering children, and all you can manage is a cuss word, truly?”

“Well, it’s not like I came prepared for a witch.”

“Lucky for you, I’m here.” She replied, hands on her hips as she started to organize some other ingredients the apothecary generously gave to her. Apparently Lily was his niece, and just wanted this dealt with before his own daughter became a victim.

“Really? You couldn’t even fight off a bunch of villagers this morning, and you’re telling me you can fight another witch?” Oh how she could choke him, curse him, or just make him bleed in that moment. Her blood boiled. The arrogance.

“Just because I chose not to attack like a beast in a cage, does not mean I am not capable of killing if I need to.”

“Well I certainly believe that if your life is about to be taken means you should fight.” She turned around to face him, but he closed the distance between them without her noticing. She knew she was getting sloppy, she was too tired from traveling and not eating well. A wave of Earthy muskiness washed over her senses as she looked up at him. His smirk pulling at the sides of his mouth. She should slap it off of him, but he’d enjoy the scene far too much. She felt incredibly small and overwhelmed for a moment, she could feel his breath on her skin as he glared down at her. “I just.” She started but felt it better not to tell him she didn’t like killing. He’d only patronize her more. He grabbed her arm as she went to walk passed him.

“I do not trust you, witch.”

“Nor I you, Witcher. But yet, it seems that fate has decided otherwise. Now, let go of me. The sooner we kill this witch, the quicker I can leave this place.”

“Just like every other mage, these people are so beneath you.”

“Aye, they are, they tried to kill me this morning, without so much as looking harder at what is going on. So go take out your frustrations elsewhere Witcher. I have to prepare protection charms for the children here in town.” He let go of her and gave her an odd look. His face held his perplexed thoughts so perfectly she could almost read them. She carried on with her current task, the only thing she could do, for now. They’d still have to figure out who is the witch. If she was staying in town, if she was hiding in the forest. But at least, for now, she could ensure the safety of some of the younger ones in the village. They’d have to figure out how to flush the witch out later. She could hear Geralt questioning the men that stayed, asking about anyone new in town save for them. If there was anything weird happening around the village or in the village that people couldn’t quiet place. It felt like hours had passed by as the light started to fade from the windows and the apothecary stopped helping her to tend to the lanterns. Families were coming in droves after the men went to spread the news. They paid the apothecary for the charms she made, and with her guidance, bought some oils. “Don’t use the oils unless you feel you’re in absolute danger. Setting a fire with these will slow a witch down, but kill anyone else. You must be sure.” The people seemed to be relaxed with her now. Becoming the Witcher’s partner helped with the glares and, even though she didn’t want to admit it, she felt accepted. First time in some long months. It filled her with a joy that she reminded herself not to get used to. She finally started to make her way back to the inn after the apothecary gave her some coin for her time. She tried to protest, even though she needed it. But she eventually relented, a tiredness taking over her. She needed to rest or she would be of no use to the Witcher in the coming days. She pulled at her cloak again, subconsciously as she pushed through the drunks in the bar and up the stairs. She knocked quietly at the door and waited. She could hear Geralt cuss and yell to just open the door. She turned the knob, but it was locked. “Idiot.” She muttered as she forced the lock to open. Lilura really should have taken a moment to look around her but she didn’t. She closed the door, locking it, and placing a protection spell over it. Sleep then threatened her vision as she almost collapsed at the door. She finally turned around to see Geralt soaking, his hair dripping water on the floor. A flustered blush rose to her checks and she slammed her eyes shut. She then heard him chuckle.

“Never knew a mage that was so, inexperienced.” She scoffed at him.

“Modest, yes, inexperienced. That's laughable.” She waved her hand to turn the water milky white and opened her eyes. “I just don’t enjoy dropping on on other people.” She took her cloak off and eased herself onto an assortment of over sized pillows. “I like my privacy and try to give others their own.” She looked over at him, one of his brows raise in disbelief. “What?” She asked, exasperated, “Not use to no, Witcher?” She mocked lightly. He was about to get out of the bath when she sat up sharply.

“What?”

“Are you not going to wash your hair?”

“I did fucking wash it.”

“Not well.” She said getting back up and walking towards him. A smile graced his lips and he tried to grab her arm but she managed to stay out of arm's reach. “Relax. _I’m_ not going to eat you.”

“Thats a piss poor excuse for a joke at this time.”

“I’m sure you’ve said and done worse.”

“And you haven’t?”

“You’re very curious for someone who often tries to look like they don’t care.” She said looking at the oils and soaps on the counter. “Did you even bother with any of these?”

“Most are too strong.”

“Overly powerful, you mean.” She nodded. Lilura slipped passed him again and grab a few things from her cloak. She heard him starting to get out again, “I did not say you could move, Witcher.”

“I told you not to leave, and yet you did.”

“I’m glad I did, found out we’re in more danger than previously expected.” She said ignoring his tone. She made her way back to him and even though she fought herself, she still glanced down at him. She was relieved when it seemed he didn’t notice. She knelt behind him and gave him two bottles. “Smell them, tell me which one you’d prefer, they're softer.” He smelled the first one and recoiled a little, but smelled the second one and handed it to her. She put some of the oily soap in her hand and began to lather it, “Dunk your head under the water.”

“What?”

“Your hair, its looks horrid, it needs to be washed.”

“You’re concerned over dirty hair when we have to kill a witch.”

“A witch we have yet to find.” He relented and submerged himself, coming up and leaning back again.

“And how is milky water going to help clean me?” She shook her head as she began to massage his head.

“It’s not dirty, I could have just as easily added bubbles. But I felt that would have been in poor taste, for you.” He relaxed more into her hands and she started to pull her fingers through his hair. He groaned deeply as she continued to lather his hair, a small blush raising to her cheeks again. She then heard him chuckle and realized that there was a giant mirror facing them and he could see her clear as day. She rolled her eyes, “Want me to continue? Or not?” He smiled and made a gesture with his hand and she continued.

“Why are you doing this, anyway?”

“One, you smell, traveling takes it toil, and I still want to thank you for saving me.”

“I can think of another way you can thank me.”

“I’m not some damsel in distress that just fucks anything that helps her.” His damned brow shot up again. She was beginning to fucking hate them. 

“She does cuss.”

“I can also curse pretty well too, Witcher.” She said pulling his hair a little, he groaned softly and she instantly regretting trying to be a bitch.

“I bet you do, little one.” He teased. She cursed herself internally and finished washing his hair. “That’s it?”

“That's it, Geralt. I’m not a whore.”

“Most women aren’t.” She ran a hand through her hair and braided it as she crossed the small room back to the pile of pillows. She could hear water rushing off of him as he resurfaced from rinsing his hair. She willed herself to keep looking at the ground as she heard him stand. She sat on the pillows, facing away from him as she assumed he was drying himself off. “Another hair wash like that, and I _might_ just buy you that bath.” She blushed again and looked up at the ceiling, cursing herself for staying and not just leaving the moment she could have. Now she felt like she needed to help out. She couldn’t just let things get worse for witches, and definitely couldn’t let the lives of these children continue to be taken. “Question for you.”

“Hmm.” She hummed over to him.

“Why would a witch need the blood of children?” She steadied the shaking in her hands.

“There is, was. It was a story my mother told me, before I was found and taken to train elsewhere. That some mages, witches, what have you, would bathe in the blood of the youth. To become more powerful or something. It's such an old story to me now that I forget most of it. It was like she was warning me about it.”

“Why would she tell you such a story, in all my centuries I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

“My mother, isn’t from this world Geralt. And she has probably lived longer, than even you.”

“That's not possible, even for most mages.” Lilura smiled, her mother was half Nymph, he pulled her up when she didn’t respond. She looked down and he was barely holding onto his towel, then he leaned in and took a deep breath of her. He then looked passed her, as though he were trying to discern what she was through scent alone. He then made eye contact with her.

“You’re a fucking nymph?” His grip tightened on her and her breath stayed trapped in her chest. He studied her face.

“Part.” She almost whispered as fear ripped through her.

“And you felt that you could hide _that_ , from me?”

“I didn’t think you’d notice.” She said submissively. She often flirted her way through a town, but that was when there is no danger, or if she desperately needed something. She rarely used her more feminine wiles to get what she wanted. 

“I should have known earlier.” He tossed her to the ground, like trash. Lilura could feel his energy everywhere, his anger, his rage. She was frightened, maybe the stories of Geralt of Rivia were true after all. She didn’t know much about what made him different, but understood that he was. She stood slowly, as though she were trying not to piss off a pack of wolves and went to grab her cloak. “Where are you going.”

“I have clearly overstayed my welcome.”

“You still _owe_ me.” She tensed as she let the material in her hands fall back to the wall. 

“Yes, you’re right.” She said sitting back down on the pillows. She laid down on them as best she could, in the dress she was in, ever thankful for not ever wearing a corset. She closed her eyes, and prayed, desperately, that sleep would take her away.


	3. 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A fight, get ready for some BS

Lilura woke suddenly, darkness still washing over the small room she found herself in. Her breathing was rapid, the vivid nightmares still clinging to her as she tried to ground herself with the smells and sounds around her. She closed her eyes and could smell something Earthy, musky, smelled like a man. She then focused on the wind outside and her own breathing. She felt the silk of her nightgown, remembering that Geralt found her bag with the guards. Lilura opened her eyes again, slowly. Her breathing still wasn’t at a pace that eased her thoughts, but she knew where she was, confusion hadn’t hit her this time. She placed a shaky hand on her neck and tried to breath slowly. She heard Geralt groan, an odd, strangled noise that she welcomed. A good distraction from her racing thoughts. He must have stirred a bit more as she saw him sit up from the corner of her eye. She looked over at him, feeling his gaze cut through her even in the darkness. “Candle.” He demanded and she waved, a few of them near the tub coming to life. “What the fuck was that?”

“Nightmares, sorry.” She shifted uncomfortably. Even though they often robbed her of sleep, she very rarely had night company. 

“What else are you hiding?”

“What on earth is _that_ supposed to mean?” She said, her senses fully coming back to her as anger ripped through her. How dare he, after knowing her for a measly two days.

“I need to know what else is wrong with you.”

“First off, there is nothing _wrong_ with me. And secondly, who the hell are you to demand any kind of knowledge from _me_ ? You know what you need to, and when you _need_ to.”

“I don’t like surprises girl.”

“I am no _girl_.” She stood “Witcher.” He went to get out of bed and she spun around to look at the wall. He was wearing nothing and was very brazen about it, it was not something she was altogether accustomed to. 

“You’re sure as hell acting like a child though.” She wanted to turn around, wanted to face him, but she couldn’t.

“Look, I’m sorry I woke you. I haven’t been near many people in a while and have a sharing problem. I am sure you understand.” She said, as calmly as she could. She could feel him approaching her so she reached for her cloak. She needed air, but he grabbed her arm as she reached out.

“I have about had it with your stupid little games, _girl_.” He said in her ear, Lilura bit her lip to steady her breath.

“If anyone is playing games, Witcher, its you.” She spun around and locked onto his eyes. His smirk died on his face when she didn’t look anywhere else but his face. “We have a job, and when it's done, you will be rid of me.” She finished and grabbed her cloak, closing her eyes as she spun back around. “I will be back shortly, I’m only running out for air.”

“5 minutes, or I’m coming after you.” She nodded and snuck out into the darkened hallway, using the wall to help guide her down the stairs. 

The air was frigid, but it was helping to steady the nerves under her skin, she closed her eyes and breathed in the wicked winter air. She couldn't help the tear that fell down her cheek. She had been doing so well, but the traveling and lack of sleep had gotten the better of her. Her nightmares hit her with the force of a dragon and dragged her back down into the pits of Underworld itself. She sighed, a hand tracing some of the scars she knew were there on her ribs. Her breathing finally came back to her, the cool air chilling her so that she was now shivering from the cold, not from her shock. Lilura hated feeling so much pain and hate, she knew at the end of the day that the people in Rythsa were just afraid of the mages that attacked and even though she was just passing through, she was a witch. And thusly, had a target painted on her back before she could even bat an eyelash. They needed information she simply did not have, as she did not work for anyone else, not for months by that time. Lilura looked up at the cold winter sky and sighed. She would soon be free to travel again, but at what cost? She turned to go back into the inn, making her way up the stairs and quietly sank back into the room. She hung her cloak up and got comfortable on the pillows again, not trying to sleep this time. She just needed to rest, and to keep focused on the task at hand. Lilura ran through all of the information they had in her head, while also mentally commenting on how she envied the Witcher for not actually needing to rest this often. How pampered he must feel now. Lilura’s body tensed as he groaned and rolled over, her hand fisted the material of pillows beneath her. “I can hear you thinking from here.” His voice was low and groggy.

“Shut up and go back to sleep.” She replied quietly but with a bitter tone. She swore she could hear him smirking, how it made her blood boil. 

“I would, but if you’re going back to sleep you’ll wake me anyway.”

“Worry not, Witcher, sleep will not come for me again this evening. Rest well. One of us needs to.” She sighed bitterly. Lilura waited for another quick witty quip, but she heard him softly breathing, his breathing perfectly even. She relaxed as she assumed he actually fell back asleep. She breathed out quietly and went back to her thinking, trying to draw out a plan in her mind. Trying to feel a little more useful.

Lilura watched the sun starting to spread on the floor, and waited for Geralt to finally get up. She heard the bed shift under his weight and she kept her gaze on the floor, watching the shadows of birds pass over the floorboards as the light slowly became stronger. “Sleep well?” She questioned softy. He just grunted in response, she felt his eyes on her and she slowly raise her own to him.

“How about you?” Ravens and Lilvani did she hate how low his voice was in the morning. It rumbled through you even if you didn’t want it to. 

“I told you, sleep would not come for me again.” She sighed, shifting herself to sit up. She got up before he could and walked over to the window to look out, watching as the shop keeps started to open up.

Geralt watched her figure in the light, she was obviously exhausted but was trying to hide it. The bitterness in her voice was pungent and it burned him. He woke up a few other times as he felt her moving in the dark, he could hear her calm breathing in the dark, the rhythm kept lulling him back to sleep. But the shadow of her figure against the soft light of the building morning stirred his body back to life. He looked her up and down, trying to keep the image in his mind, something for later. She then stretched her arms out, arching her back to stretch out the limbs she must have been laying on. A small raspy breath escaped her mouth as she turned around, her violet hair shining in the light of the window. “It seems the town is coming to life.”

“Slept too long then.” He said, keeping himself covered, didn’t need another blush from her to add fuel to his fire. He leaned over and grabbed his clothes as she washed her face in cold water. She seemed to not mind it, as though she needed it to shock her. He wanted to just pull her into bed with him, but they had work to do. Coin, then fuck.

“I figured that maybe we should go down to the other side of town.”

“There haven’t been that many missing children on that side.”

“Exactly. This isn’t some monster in the forest picking off lost traveling Geralt. This is an intelligent being making a decision to kill.”

“Meaning?” 

“Would you kill too close to your home base? Or would you want people looking elsewhere?”

“Spoken like a true killer.” He loved watching how high her eyes would roll back into her head. His mind thought of how she’d look under him while doing that, mouth open, skin sticky with sweat. He felt a smirk forming on his lips as he laced up his pants.

“You’re insufferable at times, Witcher.” She spat at him, he was beginning to like the way she hatefully said Witcher. Fuck he needed to fuck someone. Anyone. His mind was losing focus on the job at hand. She slipped on her cloak and began to change and he forced himself to stop staring and wash up for the day.

They walked through the town, people ducking out of their way or casting their eyes down. “This happen often?” She looked up and asked him.

“Yes, I’m used to it now.”

“It's odd.”

“Why? Not used to being treated with respect, witch?” She smiled softly.

“It's not that. I’m not used to people being afraid of me, still.” They kept walking, the crowd building in the streets as people went to work or shopping. People arguing in the streets over prices, someone then grabbed Lilura.

“Fine lady, come here.” A man said loudly, Geralt studied her shocked face, “You should not align yourself with such.” The man stopped speaking, he wasn’t sure if the gulp was out of fear or disgust. He was dressed well enough, to seem almost noble. But by the look on his face he was assuming that she was a prostitute.

“A fine specimen, wouldn’t you agree?” Her voice was flirtatious, when she looked him up and down and looked back at the man that grabbed her. He felt like she had flipped a switch, and most people in the immediate vicinity turned to look her way. “I was going to say the same about you, noble sir.” She smiled sweetly to him, she held out her hand and he just placed coin in her hand. “So generous sir, this helps a lot.”

“Anything that would please you.” The man breathed out.

“It would please me above all, sir, if you left us to our work.” She smiled sweetly, the man nodded and wouldn’t stop looking at her as he slipped back into the crowd. And just as easily as the air around them became passionate and intense it ended, the winter taking hold on the air around them once more. Geralt looked down at her as she slipped the coins the man gave her into her pocket.

“So, now you’re a thief?”

“He insulted me. He can at least give me a bit of coin for wasting my time.” She said coldly, “But I’m glad that it had little effect on you.” She smiled, “Normally I give people I’m working with a little bit of a warning before doing things like that.”

“So you do _tell_ people.”

“No.” She stated in a flat tone, “It took months for the magistrate at the training academy to figure it out.” She was filled with such bitterness that he decided to stop pressing. It was obviously a time she would rather forget.

“It’s impressive.”

“It’s just useful. Like any other abilities we are blessed or cursed with.” Geralt decided to just stay silent as they continued to walk through the narrowing streets. He watched her from the corner of his eye as she scanned the crowd and looked at the shop signs. She was not hiding the fact that she was not from here, as though she didn’t care. Mapping out the things she needed to know and where she might need to go. Someone bumped into her.

“Sorry ma’am” The woman blurted out quickly, full of fear.

“No worries.” Lilura replied with all the grace she was, “It happens, are you alright?” 

“Yes.” The woman said.

“Then all is right in the world.” And she went back to walking. She was such a confusing creature. Filled with bitterness, torments, and showing nothing but love and kindness. Even when she was so obviously wronged.

They walked a little longer before she moved closer to him and grabbed his arm, stopping him dead in his tracks. “What?”

“Something is off. Here.” She waved her hand, as though she were trying to grab onto a string that wasn’t there, “This way.” He could hear her heart beat faster, but he couldn’t tell if it was fear or excitement. 

“What are we following.”

“The same faint magic that was still in Lily when they brought her in.”

“Who?”

“The dead girl, Witcher, do keep up.” She shook her head softly at him, scolding him a hair more. She let go over his arm and took off her gloves, as though she were determined to keep pulling at this thread until the tapestry came tumbling down around them.

“Be careful, witch.”

“I am being careful, now shut it, let me concentrate. Someone has been trying to cover up what they’re doing. And they were pretty good with it.”

She wanted to close her eyes to focus on the magic, but she couldn’t risk stumbling into something or someone. She felt sick in her gut, a nagging grotesque feeling that was creeping into her skin. She couldn’t help the shiver that rushed through her being, filling it was dread and despair. She finally started to slow, the magic growing more and more in substance as they came onto another inn. She looked back at Geralt. “Must be the keep.”

“Then it would have been going on longer.” She told him.

“The townspeople said that no one has come through recently.”

“They’re looking for a woman, Geralt, but mages can be men too.” She looked up at him, he nodded in agreeance. “Listen, I’m going to need you to steel yourself.”

“What?”

“The crowd was nothing. But if we want the upper hand. Well.. I’m going to have to use all of my tricks. And.” She paused, looking deeply into him, “Don’t be surprised if you want to kill me after.” She turned and entered the tavern under the inn before he could respond. She pulled her hood down and walked over to an open booth, Geralt going to the bar. It wasn’t long before someone came by asking if she’d like him to buy her a drink, to which she graciously agreed. “It’s nice to have some company.” She smiled.

“Well, it's not everyday a woman like you would walk passed me.”

“Well, that's very unfortunate.” She batted her lashes, more people started to look her way. And she started to speak with each that would approach. She looked over at Geralt who quickly looked away from her and scanned the people in the tavern. She was trying to be watchful too, but needed to also focus on the man in front of her, and the people trying to crowd her table. She then saw Geralt move from the corner of her eye, walking towards them and he grabbed her arm. Someone went to interfere but she stopped them. “Sorry, this is my friend, I’ll talk to you all later.” She said, waving her hand low to kill the enchantment holding them. They seemed a little dazed for a moment before all going back to their respective places in the bar, going back to their beers like nothing had happened. “What?”

“I smell blood.”

“I guess that’s good. A bad kind of good.” Geralt just nodded at her and walked her up the steps, no one paying them any mind.

“Can you to that thing you were doing earlier?”

“What?” She questioned, “Oh, oh no. Too much of the mage’s magic are around, too many tendrils to pull at. I’d get lost now.” Geralt grunted and her body tensed, she cursed herself again. She wished he’s stop doing that now. He put some distance between them, as though he were listening to the rooms. He finally pointed to one and she ran up to feel it, she looked up at him and nodded. She could smell the blood now, almost sweet and rotten mixed together. She felt herself gag on it. He shoved the door open and a man yelped. The smell hit Lilura full force, the sight of the man standing from the bloodied bath made her queasy but she stoned herself, powers at the ready. Geralt went to swing at the man in the tub but he pushed Geralt against the wall with a word. His dark eyes then settled on her, she would know that treacherous face anywhere.

“Oh, how quaint, the little Midnight Witch, tell me Lilura, how has life been?”

“Oh, since you left me to die in Rythsa? Swell. See you’re trying out some new tricks.” Her eyes narrowed on the mage.

“Gotta keep up with _you_ somehow.” He said getting out of the tub, gesturing to his perfect, blood covered body.

“That is not how it works, Quithan” She could have thrown up then, watching the blood run off of his body and onto the floor.

“Oh, of course it’s working, I’m 20 years younger already, by Coram Agh Ter, I feel wonderful.”

“Oh, of course you’d bring your stupid fucking spider into this.” His eyes darkened and the room seemed to become darker. Like everything shifted just slightly to the left, it felt nauseating. 

“I would warn you to be kinder, Lilura. Or your Witcher dies.” She heard Geralt cough for air, without hesitation she broke the tendril of magic that Quithan sent out, his webs had always been easy to cut for her. The darkness of the Midnight Moon lived in her, it gave her life when she was still born, it breathed into her and gave her everything her mother and father could not. Quithan growled at her, “Where Lilvani failed, I will succeed.” He bellowed at her.

“Like you succeeded last time?” By the time the words left her mouth she saw Geralt get up at bolt at the mage. She made her move to trap him as well. Geralt went in with a punch to his ribs first, the mage stumbled over, at first. His maniacal laughter filling the room.

“I’ll deal with you after, Witcher.” He growled at Geralt and threw him through the window. Lilura wanted to run to the window but also didn’t want to see him mangled in the street below. The mage’s attention was back on her. “Now, you would grant me, many, many things if I did it just right.” She felt something snaking up her body as it tried to latch onto her skin, she fought the images in her mind, swimming and filling her to the brim with pain and lust. She pushed everything down, and focused her darkened intentions onto the mage trying to drain her. She pushed back, a wave of darkness breaking over the room.

“I told you then, and I’m telling you now, Quithan, you’re dead to me.” The room shook as she started to toss the furniture in the room at him. 

The mirror hit him and shattered, shards of glass protruding from his form, his age started to show in those spots again as they tried to heal. She pushed on with more energy she pulled from the room around her, each shadow that graced the floors and walls gave her life. He pushed back at her, some of the mirror piece ripping through her dress, cutting one of her legs. She screamed at the agony, it burned in her flesh, like a poison. Lilura did her best to let the sensation push her onward as she took a step closer to him. She was then hit with a force in her chest, knocking the wind out of her lungs. The magic around her stopped and some of the furniture dropped with a loud thud as she hit the wall. He was on her, blood and magic filling her senses. “I could eat you all up.” He said to her, breathing her in, she pushed him off of her, with both her physical and magical strength.

“It will take more than that to break me.” She warned.

“Oh, and when you break it will be magical. I wish you’d be around to see what I have planned.” He smiled at her, it was more crooked that it had ever been before. She cursed herself for not seeing it before he betrayed her, and cursed herself for not seeking him out and killing him sooner. She cracked her magic like a whip towards him, cutting deeply into his flesh. He screamed like a banshee in the night and lunged at her. She held him off, wrapping him in darkness as she began to tighten it around him. She was relieved when she saw his form come back through the door, silver sword in hand. She gave her magic her all, letting her pain take over and holding Quithan still as he started to mudder a curse, but the Witcher was much too swift. Eyes blackened, his sword came down in one swing, severing Quithan’s head from his body. Without a second thought Lilura whispered the word for fire and his body turned to ash in the darkened cradle she created. It too, dissipated, a pile of ash sitting on the floor. She looked down at his head on the floor, Geralt was going to need it to prove that it was over. 

Her back was suddenly against the wall, the air rushing from her lungs in a hurry. She felt his blade against her skin, the colour draining from her face. Fear gripped her as she looked into the darkness that held Geralt’s face. “Geralt.” She whispered in fear. His breathing was ragged, like he had been running for hours. “Geralt.” She pushed a little more on his chest, his blade pressed against her skin even more. He had yet to break it.

“What the fuck, was that?” She allowed him to control himself for a moment before speaking.

“My magic.”

“Dark magic.”

“It is.” She stated, trying to control the emotion in her voice. His blade dropped from her throat.

“Thank you.” He breathed out, picking up the head and looked back at her.

“He was, once, a friend. He, went down a dark path. It was far too late for me to convince him of another way before he.” She shook her head of the memories. 

“Doesn’t matter, he's dead.”

“Thankfully.” He smirked at her again as they headed out, people crowding the streets. The guards lined the road and confronted them as they came out of the tavern.

“What are you two doing!?” One guard yelled as he approached them, a man in dark regal robes walking behind him.

“Killing your witch problem.”

“This is no witch, he was.”

“Let me guess, a noble from a few towns over, looking for things to buy and trade.” Lilura spoke up.

“I, uh, yes.”

“Well, he was killing your kids.” Geralt said bluntly, tossing the head to the ground. “Now pay up, and we will be on our way.” The man handed Geralt a large satchel of coin, he weighed it in his hands and started to walk away.

“You both best be gone by sunrise tomorrow.”

“Consider me gone.” Lilura stated as she walked with Geralt, heading back towards the inn.

Lilura sat with Geralt, as they ate in silence, the townspeople now ignoring their presence. She sipped on her tea as he downed another tankard. “You’d think you’re trying to drown yourself with they way you drink.” She stated, his brow raised again towards her. She shuffled in her seat as she ate another piece of meat. 

“You should eat more.”

“Then I’ll be starving on the road.” She informed him, “I still have a long way to travel, and not a lot of coin. Or a means to earn coin.”

“Could just steal it.”

“No.” She answered him, finishing her tea, “May Morgana give you her blessings in battle, Witcher.” She said as she stood. He looked at her oddly, “I bid you good evening.”

“You’re leaving.”

“As promised.” She said as she left him a few coins for the food she ate, “Travel safe.” She said and left him without allowing him to say anything more.


	4. 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, but not sorry.

Geralt spun her around, the scent of her infuriating, she smelled nothing of the one he wanted. This woman smelled like cinnamon and spice. She sighed as she sunk down on him again. He slammed himself back into her, setting a fast and hard pace, his mind was too distracted to carry this out any longer, her body was starting to fatigue anyway. She started to moan his name louder, and he did his best not to hurt her, but he needed to go a little harder to find that sweet spot for himself. He found it after a few more thrusts and she came, falling into him as he came in her. The woman looked up at him with brown, bliss filled eyes. He pulled out with a grunt and let her fall on the bed, his stamina is still not satiated. She said something to him, but he didn’t care enough to focus on it. “Thank you.” She cleared her throat, again. He just grumbled towards her, not giving two shits. He stepped back into the bath and let the lukewarm water engulf him. “I mean, that was amazing. Better than anyone else, we should do it again sometime.”

“Well, I’m sorry to inform you that I'll be leaving soon.”

“Why?” She whined.

“Places to be, now get dressed.” He told her. She seemed to be a little pissed off.

“Excuse me?”

“I said, get dressed. I”ll be leaving soon.” The woman gathered her things and got dressed, he watched her huff one last time and he nodded as she left. It was early in the morning now. He got out of the bath, dried himself, and then dressed. Geralt cursed himself for getting so enamored with Lilura, his body stiffened again when he thought back to earlier that morning when she stood by the window. Should have just fucked her right then and there, but he was trying to get a job done. And she left as soon as she was patched up and ate. Efficient. 

She hid in the bushes again, too tired to keep going. She really should have just stayed with the Witcher at the inn for another night, just to rest. She shook her head of the thoughts, knowing damn well that she was in trouble either way. Lack of sleep from nightmares, or the cold, she was fucked either way. She sighed heavily as she pulled out her breeches, she looked at where it was torn through and pulled out a needle and thread from her bag as well. Her legs were freezing now, the heat from her little fire not doing very much. “Should have just stayed you idiot.” She cursed herself as she started to sew, she needed a little more light and looked around, even if someone finds her out here, she could make a dash for it. The flames grew a little, bathing her in more light and warmth. She continued to sew the leg that was cut through until she was satisfied that it wouldn’t rip open if she wore them again. Lilura thought it best to check on her wound before putting on the pants, she had healed most of it, but she wanted to make sure that she wasn’t going to open up what was left. She lifted her skirts and started to unwrap it to take a look. She sighed as the cool air swept over it, she couldn’t decide if it was welcomed or not. It looked like she should really sew it shut. “Looks bad.” She almost jumped out of her skin as she looked up to see the white haired Witcher.

“Bloody ravens!” She pushed her skirts back down, “Why do you keep doing that?” He chuckled at her.

“You didn’t make it very far.” She sighed, he was right.

“Obviously not.”

“You’re lucky it was me that found you.”

“On a night like this?” 

“Morning.” He stated while reaching for her skirts.

“What are you doing?” She questioned as she moved away.

“Taking a look at your wound. You know, for a witch you rather suck at this.”

“Oh, well I’m so sorry I have nothing to buy herbs with. And that I am low on fucking energy. And patience I might add.” He approached her again, his hands reaching for the skirt.

“And I want to make sure that this isn’t going to kill you.” She looked at him perplexed, he seemed to be gentle as he raised her skirts. He looked back up at her and she knew she blushed, even though she was cold she felt the heat in her cheeks. He moved even closer to her and the fire, taking her leg in her hands in a tender motion. “You should heal this more.”

“I don’t have the energy to spare.” He looked back up at her, “Meaning if I do that, I will pass out. And.” She gestured to the space they were in.

“Tell you what, heal it, I’ll carry you until you wake up or until we’re in the next town.”

“Witcher.” She said coldly, scolding him.

“Free.”

“Bullshit.” She told him sternly, “If I have learned nothing else in the last few years, its that nothing is free.” He let go of her and pulled her skirts back down.

“You’re right, I could use your help, again.”

“See.” She gestured.

“I just don’t know when, and I know that there are some wolves, probably some kikimore, maybe an ice troll or two. I know there is definitely a high strung witch out here.” She hit him in the arm.

“I am not high strung.”

“When is the last time you slept well?” He poked at her. She sighed.

“Months.”

“The nightmares?”

“Mostly.” She admitted. 

“You’re still going South, yes?”

“Yes.”

“Then we travel together until we need to part ways.” He said, matter of factly. No room for arguing. She decided that trusting him was a better decision than trusting Quithan, at least the Witcher would just kill her himself, cold and quickly.

“Fine, I relent.” She stated she went to get up but then fell, thankful for Geralt being so close as he caught her as he stood. She didn’t realize how much pain her leg was causing her until then. As though her body remembered that it was in pain. “Ready?” She asked as she grabbed her things and stuffed them back in the bag. He grabbed it from her and nodded. She focused all the energy she had left into healing more of the wound on her leg. Lilura fell forward.

“I’ve got you.” He picked her up with ease, the winter wind wrapping around her legs making her shiver in his arms. She was in and out of it as he approached Roach with her in his arms. She didn’t remember how he got on his horse, or where the blanket had come from, but she was cradled in his arms and she quickly faded to black.

Geralt thought her lucky that he found her, the fire was bright, even for a normal man, from the road. She must have been out of her mind in pain as she walked, he decided that she must have become delirious. Cursing himself internally for letting her leave at all. “You could have died, you stupid witch.” He said to her as she was sleeping. He sighed as he wrapped the blanket around her a little tighter. He urged Roach to start walking, she had enough rest the last few days and he was determined to push on until mid-day, skipping the town he knew to be close. 

************************************************************************

Day stretched out across her face, as Geralt looked down at her again, it had been hours since daylight broke. She wasn’t kidding, she was empty. He watched her features change from tense to relaxed, some one after the other in repetition, but no crying or screaming like the night she had her nightmare. She then gasped shallowly, her body tensing a little, then relaxing in his arms. He felt her hand grip the blanket and she shuddered a little, a breathy moan escaping her lips. Geralt shifted in his saddle, trying to put a little distance between him and the girl in his lap. Her brows furrowed again and Lilura’s eyes fluttered open slowly. “Afternoon.”

“Truely?” She asked, sleep still holding her voice, making it more breathy than she probably intended.

“Yes.” He said, tight lipped. He helped her sit up, and she pushed the blanket down to her hips. His hand moved to her waist to steady her so she wouldn’t fall off of Roach. She started to stretch a little, curling her body into his and his hand tightened on her. She instantly went back to her previous position, clearing her throat softly as her legs tensed. He cursed himself for skipping the previous town.

“Do you mind if I swing my leg around? So I’m sitting properly?” She asked quietly, trying to look back at him. He just grunted and shifted so that the blanket wouldn’t fall off of her. She grabbed his thighs and leaned back, he swallowed down a low growl as she squeezed his legs and swung one of hers around to sit in the saddle properly. This was going to be a long ride, his previous fuck not nearly enough to clear his mind. “Thank you, I’ve been told I’m about as smart as I am stubborn.” She said as she adjusted the blanket on her lap.

“That's both an insult and a compliment.” He chuckled.

“But clearly it's also true.” She sighed, she patted Roach who made a gleeful noise in response. “How much longer do we have until the next town?”

“Who knows out in these parts. Sometimes a town is there one year, gone the next.”

“True, especially when high strung witches are involved.” She jested, looking back at him. He just smirked at her.

“These roads seemed to be well traveled, though. I saw a few travelers heading back the direction we came from, so it couldn't be too far out, should be somewhere before nightfall.”

“That seems reasonable. Is your horse going to be okay with the added weight?” 

“Roach will be fine. She’s had worse.” He paused as she breathed out and relaxed, “How did you sleep?”

“Good, all things considered.”

“First time sleeping on a horse?”

“No.” She laughed softly, “First time sleeping on a Witcher, though.” She joked. Geralt tightened his hand on the reins as he looked up to stop the flood of thoughts in his mind. It was like she was _trying_ to fuck with him now.

“That's hard to believe.” She turned around to look up at him.

“Excuse me?” She tried to be stern, but failed. He saw the blush on her face, it was faint, but it was there, regardless of the cold.

“That this was the first time you slept _on_ a Witcher.” Her eyes narrowed at him and she turned around, he was beginning to enjoy this.

“Not many Witcher’s where I’m from. My parents often kept the monster’s at bay.”

“In Gravestone?”

“Yes.” She stated, “My mother’s magic, was much stronger than mine.”

“What happened?” She sighed.

“Lets just say the town didn’t want to give me up to the Brotherhood of Sorcerers. It didn’t end well and I was taken anyway. Plus, most Witchers don’t like getting involved with too many mages.”

“I’m sorry for prying.” She breathed heavily.

“It's been ages, but it still hurts.” She stated, “It gets easier, sometimes, but. It never goes away.” Geralt understood what she meant, Witcher training and experiments were not kind. And since she was part nymph, the training was probably not easy on her either. “Some wounds never heal.” She whispered. He remained silent as she got comfortable, a growing pain in his groin kept him from doing the same.

He was correct, they found a town just before nightfall, the winds had picked up and the snow started to blow in. Her cloak was no match for the winds that drove up her skirts as they rode in, she could feel her teeth chattering. Geralt jumped off first and help her down, her leg was still sore, but they checked and it was basically healed now. If she had some ingredients on her she could make a salve for the pain and be fine, save for the bitterness that is winter’s mother. He walked into the inn and left her with Roach who shoved her nose into the palm of her hand. “You’re tired too, huh.” She shook her head no and Lilura laughed. “You really are a Witcher’s horse Roach.” She stroked her snout a little before patting her neck. “You’re a good horse Roach, you put up with a lot.” She breathed out at her, Geralt came back out and handed the reins to one of the young boys with him. He handed on boy her bag and one of his and he ran back into the inn.

“Be careful with her, she will eat you out of house and home if you let her.” The other boy took the leather from him and walked her to the barn. “Lets go.” He walked her into the inn and sat down at a table. “Just to warn you, they only had one room.” The barmaid made eyes at him when she set down some drinks and food. 

“Wow, here all but two seconds and you already have an admirer.” She smiled and joked.

“It's the eyes.”

“It must be.” She said, rolling hers, “Definitely not the whole tall, handsome, and fierceness happening. Screams ‘I am danger’.” She laughed softly.

“Is that so?” His brow raise, a blush rose to her cheeks as she realized what she had done. She stroked his ego, she shifted under his soft scrutiny. “Is that all it takes for you, witch?” She let out a long, exasperated breath and glared at him.

“Shut it, Witcher.” He smiled, even more smugly than before. She wanted to wipe the smugness off of his face, but she too was wondering what she meant. She thought back, quickly to her previous lovers, all of them had an edge of danger. She internally scolded herself as she realized that she had played right into his hands. And she was so rusty, not having a lover for almost a year now. Traveling too much and avoiding towns did that though. Lilura started to pick at the food brought to them, the food wasn’t great, but it was better than nothing at all. 

“You should eat more.”

“I’ll stop when I’m full. No need to over indulge myself.” She smiled at him, like she couldn’t help it. She sipped on her tea and did her best not to stare at the way his lips looked as he licked them before taking another swig of his mead. Or the way some dripped down his sculpted neck. Damn the gods, and damn her for looking, the blush clearly obvious on her face when he smirked while drinking. This was going to be a very long trip, she was going to have to start making excuses to leave, or this was going to get the better of her. 

Geralt was about 5 drinks in, he didn’t waste his time, when the barmaid came up and whispered something in his ear. A smile cracked over his face and he locked eyes with Lilura. She breathed a small sigh and almost rolled her eyes, waiting for him to tell her she’ll have to stay in the bar for a while. “Baths ready.” He said, putting some coin on the table and getting up.

“What?” She said, getting pulled out of the wave of jealousy that somehow gripped her chest.

“Bath. Ready.” He said again, “Should I spell it out?” She shook her head.

“Want me to stay here for a bit, while you wash up?” He didn’t answer her, instead he rolled his eyes and grabbed her arm gently, making her walk with him down the hallway. She wanted to fight him and tell him she could walk by herself, but her breath stayed in her chest as he opened the door to the room. The candles were lit this time, the space larger than the last. A half sofa in the corner, a much better place than a floor littered with pillows to sleep. The bed was large, enough for a few people, but after watching the way that Geralt slept, she’d rather sleep on the floor if that was her only other option. Geralt left her near the door after he closed it, the steam of the bath fogging the mirrors near it. _Who the fuck keeps puting mirrors by bathing tubs?_ She thought. “You going to bath, in that?” Geralt gestured to her, pulling her from the thoughts she was thinking.

“Hmm?” She replied, she seemed to have struck a nerve.

“A bath, you didn’t bathe for a few days.” Her mouth opened and then shut. “That's what I thought.”

“Are you staying?” She finally asked as she hung up her cloak.

“I’ll be over here.” He said as he took off his coat and tossed it on a nearby chair. Heat rose to her cheeks as she walked over to the bathing area, her small bag was placed near his by the wall. A paper separator blocked her view of the bed. 

“Fine.” She said as she started to strip, letting the dress she wore fall to the floor with a thunk. What she didn’t realize was that the lights around her were casting a shadow of her on the paper, and that Geralt was already fixated on the figure in the light.


	5. 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just SMUTT

She slowly lowered herself into the warm bath, exhaling as she did, she let herself relax, not noticing how the mirror reflected divider behind her. She closed her eyes and waved her hand, some bottles flew towards her but they didn’t land in her hand. She opened her eyes and looked up into the mirror. Geralt was behind her, eyes fixated on hers in the glass. A breath caught in her chest and she covered herself, “Witcher.” She scolded him, but he covered her mouth with his other hand. Her hands shot out to the sides of the bath, as though she were attempting to ground herself. She heard him growl, low in his throat, a warning perhaps. But the sound shot through her and she quivered and she knew he felt it.

“I owe you a bath.” He said, a tone too low to be an accident, and he let go of her mouth.

“Geralt.” He glared at her in the mirror and she stuffed all other protests down. He opened the bottles and smelled them, he got up and looked through the others, choosing a different one. When he turned back around he didn’t hide the fact that he was drinking her in. Something that made her feel both small and bold. She shifted as he walked back towards her, “Geralt.” She whispered as he knelt behind her again, his gaze was no longer menacing, but lust filled and focused.

“Dunk your head.” She didn’t respond, only did as he asked. A heat burned in her. Lilura resurfaced and he pulled at her hair gently, easing her back to lean her head on the rim of the tub. “Relax.” He told her. She closed her eyes as he took off his shirt and he chuckled, she opened them back up and glared at him. He tossed his shirt behind him and opened the bottle, she could smell it as he put some of the liquid on his hands. It smelled like rain. He started to work it through her hair and she sighed, leaning into his touch. Now she felt bad for when she washed his hair, it was. Invigorating, a tingling shot down her neck and her breath caught in her chest as he tugged on her hair lightly. “Pay back.” He pulled again, her body betraying her and arching slightly.

“Fair enough.” She said, much too breathy for her liking. She looked at him in the mirror, he was studying her face, although, because he was much taller than her, he could most likely see _all_ of her.

He finished with her hair and she was ready to melt. She sat up and dunked herself under the water and then resurfaced again, she looked at Geralt in the mirror and then turned her face to look at him. “Thank you.” She whispered, expecting him to leave her like this as she did him. She leaned back on the rim of the tub.

“Not yet.” He almost growled in her ear. His hand snaked around her neck when she tried to move again. He breathed her in and narrowed his eyes on hers in the mirror. “You still have to pay for the stunt earlier.” She was about to ask what stunt, but be squeezed her throat softly, earning him a low moan. A wicked smile took hold on his face, “Although, I think you squeezed my thighs a little tighter.” She whimpered as he let go. 

“Also fair.” She breathed out, thinking he was done with his little game. He then trapped her in the tub between his arms, she watched the liquid pour into his hand in front of her. She made herself look up at him in the mirror, her mouth fell open slightly, his pupils blown wide. The sight of him was enough to bring the heat full force to the apex of her thighs, she pushed her legs together and he chuckled, darkly. 

“I like seeing you squirm.” She shuddered and she couldn’t help it, he groaned deeply, “And I haven’t even touched you.” He tsked her. 

He lathered his hands and dipped them into the warm water, her body frozen in anticipation. Her mind wondering to what his intentions were now. Was he just going to tease her relentlessly, or was he going to keep the entire inn up all evening. The moment he made contact with her skin, her body came alive. His hands cupped her breasts and kneaded them, the soap making his hands slick on her skin. His hands slid down, painfully slow, to her waist, squeezing her and brushing across her skin. He withdrew his hands and she looked up at him, begging him, silently, not to stop. He took more soap into his hands, “I need to make sure you’re not going to need another bath for a while.” She almost whimpered as he moved from her, but he sat at the side of the bath, she studied how calm his damnable breathing still was. She was shaking and her breath was rapid. He took the leg further from him and started to massage the soap into her skin, all while drinking in her movements. She gripped the rim of the tub as he inched closer to the furnace between her legs. He seemed to play little mind to what she wanted the most, at that particular moment as he pushed her leg back into the water and helped rinse off all of the soap. He then gathered more soap and started on her sore leg. She winced a little when he made his way to her calf, but relaxed his grip when he noticed. He slowly made his way back up to her thigh, squeezing it softly. She let out a short, audible moan and whimpered as he pulled back. Lilura looked up at him as he moved back behind her, her body was vibrating and she needed more. “Lean forward.” He demanded and she complied, she ran her hands up her legs, “Hands where I can see them, witch.” Lilura’s hand quickly made themselves known and she placed them on the sides of the bath. He poured the soap directly on her back and arched letting out a terrible, surprised moan as the cold hit her warmed skin. He groaned back to her, as though he appreciated the reaction. His hands traveled her back and massaged her shoulders, they soon traced her spine, one hand tracing the scars that wrapped around her rib cage, squeezing them softly again.

Lilura had had it, she dunked herself under the water slightly to wash off the remaining soap from her body and pulled Geralt to her lips, moaning into his mouth. He moaned back as he bit her bottom lip. She pulled away from him and looked into his eyes “Sorry, I couldn’t.” She started but he growled low and pulled her naked form as close as he could to him and crushed her lips to his. She sat on her knees in the tub as she ran a hand through the Witcher’s hair, the other steadied her while it rested on the crook of his neck. His hands found purchase on her waist and the back of her neck. She kissed him with a fierceness she hadn’t felt in almost a year. A hungry need twisting and building inside of her. Geralt stood up taking her shaky body with him as he lifted her from the tub, barely breaking his lips from hers. He picked her up and she wrapped her legs around his hips, she broke the kiss and moaned when his cock pushed against her. For a moment it felt like he was just going to fuck her right there, beside the tub but he stoned his face for a moment and made his way to the bed. He pushed her off of him softly and she fell onto the bed, she looked up at him and her legs slammed shut. She tried to rub her thighs together and moaned when he chuckled at her. 

“Gripping the sheets already. You’re making this too easy.” She arched her back like a whore and didn’t care, his voice rumbled through her body and she couldn’t help but react. She felt him shift and a soft thud, she forced herself to look, but it wasn’t what she expected. He was on his knees, and he pulled her knees apart softly. She was only able to watch him lean in until he made eye contact with her, that gaze drank her in and she opened her legs further. She held onto a breath for a moment until she felt his mouth on her, she arched her back again. Fists balling the sheets as she pulled at them every time time he licked her. Lilura felt that ache in her stomach pull harder with each circled he drew on her clit. She let out an airy moan as he slid a finger into her, he growled into her which sent shock waves ripping through her. “You taste, so good.” 

“Fuck.” She moaned as he sucked on her swollen bud, a high pitched keen soon followed as he did it again.

“Gods, I love it when you make that noise.” He slowly pushed another finger in, “Fuck you’re so tight.” She moaned again as he started to open her up, an orgasm fast approaching.

“Geralt.” Her voice broke, sweat now starting grace her skin. He groaned in response, adding a third finger, her back lifted from the bed and she moaned his name again. He started to fuck her with his fingers, his other hand gripping her thigh harshly. “Geralt.” She almost yelled when he tightened his grip, he growled low, “I’m going to.” She couldn’t finish her thought as his mouth found her sex again, she squeezed her eyes shut and attempted to breathe as her body tensed harshly. The tension in her body finally snapped as she arched her back even more, her body falling into the bed with a loud moan. She spasmed a few times and Geralt looked down at her from his spot at the edge of the bed. He slowly pulled out his fingers, but before he could wipe them on the bed she snatched his hand pulling him slowly to her mouth were she licked them clean.

“Fuck.” Was all he could say in response. She was lucky that she was part nymph, it meant she might have just as much stamina as Geralt. She sat up, the blush from her orgasm still lingering on her skin. She untied his pants and started to help him work them off. _Why did they have to be so fucking tight?_ She thought. She almost froze as his cock became freed from the confines of his pants. Without a thought, or letting him get the pants off his other leg and took his large member into her mouth. “Fuck.” He almost shouted as she stretched her mouth over his cock, one of her hands stroking what wouldn’t fit. His hand found a place in her damp hair as he helped guide her head on his shaft. She moaned onto his dick when he pulled on her hair, he cussed again and pulled a little harder. Her brows furrowed as she pushed herself further on his dick, making her choke and he cursed her name. He pulled her from his cock and she pouted up at him. “There will be plenty of time to make me cum like that, little one.” Her body shivered. He pushed her down and kicked off his pants, stalking up towards her. She gripped the sheets as he spread her legs, and one of his hands made it’s way up to wrap around her throat. “Now, I asked you a question during dinner.” Lilura groaned in protest, her brain was rattled and she didn’t want to _think_. “Is that all it takes? Witch?” His hand tightened around her throat.

“Yes.” She side in a high pitched moan, his head fell against hers as he groaned.

“You like being in danger?” His grip tightened and relaxed, her hips buckled forward and she melted into him again.

“Please, Geralt.” She begged him.

“You don’t get your reward, if you don’t answer.”

“Yes, Witcher.” She moaned, and he slid into her without warning, filling her up, forcing the air in her lungs to leave in a rush. She felt his body pause but she couldn’t wait, she wanted him to be rough, needed it. She pushed herself into him and pulled her body from him and then forcing him back in her with great force. He tightened his grip on her throat while he tried to hold himself up.

“Woman.” He warned.

“Geralt, please. Please fuck me. Fuck me like you’ve never fucked another being before.”

“Lilura.” He growled, his body started to fail to hold the pace he was trying to set.

“Geralt.” She ground her hips again, “For the love the gods, fuck me into this fucking bed. Break it. I don’t fucking care.” She saw his resolve break on his face as he pushed into her harshly, but she drank it in. Her eyes squeezed shut and she moaned loudly, he slid out and slammed into her again. “Yes.” She shouted, and he did it again, his other hand gripped her hip and helped him find a rhythm. Fast, deep, hard. Her head was spinning as another orgasm built quickly. “Ger-alt.” She moaned to him, her body trying to move with him, but the way he pinned her to the bed made it difficult, which only drove her deeper into the ecstasy her body was chasing. She felt her body shuddering beneath him as the muscles of her sex tensed around his cock, he filled her more than she had ever been filled before. Her body craved it all. She tensed again, arching her back until her breasts grazed his skin, more sparks igniting in her body. “Geralt, oh gods!” She shouted as she came crashing down hard again, body spasming around him and under him. He slowed a little and let go of her throat, using it to steady him as he took a nipple into his mouth. She shuddered again as he moved his other hand to play with her other nipple. She let out a whine as he switched, biting and pinching. 

“Are you done being a needy bitch?”

“Not a fucking chance, Witcher.” She narrowed her eyes and smiled. He growled into her skin.

“You’re going to be the death of me.”

“Good.” She breathed out as he sat up.

“I should have done this yesterday.”

“We should have done this three days ago.” She said breathlessly. He slid out and back into her and her brain shut up and turned off.

“So fucking close, already?” He chuckled at her. She moved her hips and he groaned, “Fuck, Lilura.”

“Hmmm.” She nodded and bit her lip, “Don’t make me beg right now.”

“What if I want you to?”

“Later, please.” She breathed.

“Promise.”

“Yes. please, Geralt, I need you, I need to feel you fill me up.” He pushed himself even deeper.

“I’m pretty sure I am.” His breath was shaky, he wanted to tease her more, but she couldn’t take it. She groaned and moaned in annoyance. But before she could say anything more he pulled out almost all of the way and slammed back into her, a silent moan leaving her mouth. He groaned in appreciation and did it again. “Fuck, you feel so good.” He then set a harder and fast pace than before. He reached down between them and started to rub her clit, her back arched off of the bed again. “Beg me, beg me to fucking fill you.” He told her, it sounded more like dare than an actual request, but she needed him.

“Fuck, Geralt.” She breathed out before trying to continue, each thrust and flick eating away at her ability to speak. “Geralt, I want to feel you,” he slammed into her and she yelped loudly, “I need to feel you cum in me. Fuck, Geralt, please. Please.” She couldn’t say much else for a moment. “Oh, fuck, Geralt, let me fucking cum, please. I need to fucking cum again.” She let out an agonized moan as he started to thrust harder and push down on her clit more, her eyes opened and her eyes started to roll back into her head, her breathing stopped in her chest as her body tensed all at once.

“Lilura!” Geralt almost shouted, “Fuck.” He said as he violently fucked her into the bed, she ended up screaming as all of the tension in her body snapped all at once, her walls fluttering around Geralt’s cock as he spasmed inside of her, her name on his lips as he yelled. She gripped the sheets, trying to pull herself back to reality, back to him as she tried to wet her dry lips. She looked up at him, sweat glistening on his skin, he looked down at her, obviously as spent as her. He grunted as he pulled out of her slowly and she let out a breathy moan. He fell beside her and pulled her close to him. Her body hummed in obedience as she shifted to lay her head on his chest, his breathing more steady than hers already.

“Geralt?” She asked quietly. He hummed back to her and she looked up at him. “ _That_ , was a first.”

“Sex with a Witcher?” He smiled triumphantly.

“Not just that.” She breathed out, basking in the adoration his eyes showed her, “But screaming.” His body tensed and he pulled her even closer. “And I’d really like you to do that, again.”

“Only if you beg me.” He joked.

“If this is what you want.” She said a bit darkly, his gaze shot to her, his brain suddenly awake, “I will beg and beg you until you make me scream.” He groaned.

“You’re going to be the death of me.”


End file.
